


every new beginning has a faster end

by sage_n_basil



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28728165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sage_n_basil/pseuds/sage_n_basil
Summary: All he felt was a crackle in the air, hearing a low hum that grew louder until, suddenly, a bright, green light pierced the dark trooper’s middle. It fell to the ground in a heap to reveal a hooded figure, holding a green glowing blade out in front of them where the dark trooper’s body once towered over the Mandalorian. In that split second, all he could make out from the figure’s face was a pair of icy grey irises, illuminated by the sword, almost as though they seared through his helmet into his own eyes. A Jedi, he realized.a canon divergence fix-it fic, post-the tragedy and following the end of season 2 & beyond
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	every new beginning has a faster end

Tython 

Din Djarin

The Mandalorian’s heart was racing. Fennec caught up to his pace half sprinting, half climbing up the rocks beside him, and she turned to him with a dangerous gleam in her eye. He pretended not to notice; his mind was attempting to shake off the obliteration of the Razor Crest and set itself on saving the Child. Scouring over the rocks for a view of Grogu on the seeing stone, he attempted to get his breathing under control and focus on how to disengage the dark troopers hurtling down towards the peak. He took out his handheld blaster, ready to defend the Child and praying he would reach him before they could steal him away. 

As he and Fennec neared the edge of the circle, he caught a glimpse of Grogu’s face, staring blearily at the dark troopers that had touched down around him. He heard someone gasp “No!” He realized it had been himself who spoke. 

His reflexes kicked in, his arm taking aim and his hand squeezing around the trigger of his blaster with their own accord. The dark troopers didn’t budge their movement toward the Child, even with the assault he and Fennec laid forward. The Mandalorian growled in frustration and lurched toward the dark trooper closest to Grogu, a last-ditch effort to stall their advance. But despite the strength of his beskar armor, he was no match for the immobilizing front the trooper was designed for. He hit the stone ground hard. The trooper continued its advance toward him, and the Mandalorian had no time to recover before Grogu was yanked off the seeing stone by another. His mind scattered and desperate, he had the fleeting thought that perhaps, if he had not been so careless, Grogu would be in the arms of a Jedi master instead of held against his will by the Empire. He had failed to bring Grogu to safety, after everything, and Grogu would be the one suffering for it. The dark trooper closed in on the Mandalorian, its arm refiguring into a blaster held up to his neck.

All he felt was a crackle in the air, hearing a low hum that grew louder until, suddenly, a bright, green light pierced the dark trooper’s middle. It fell to the ground in a heap to reveal a hooded figure holding a green glowing blade out in front of them where the dark trooper’s body once towered over the Mandalorian. In that split second, all he could make out from their face was a pair of icy grey irises, illuminated by the sword, almost as though they seared through his helmet into his own eyes. A Jedi, he realized.

The figure’s nimble frame jumped through the air, slicing through dark troopers with dancer-like grace and precision, as though they knew exactly where to disarm them. The Mandalorian shook off his disbelief and stood, running to Fennec, who still blasted at the troopers. “The Child,” he grunted out, panicking. “Do you see him?”

Her eyes darted around the peak and on the sky. “There!” She asserted. He used his helmet’s vision to lock onto where the dark trooper in the air had Grogu in its grasp. With Fennec’s vocal cue, the Jedi took out a second weapon, a blaster, and began immediately shooting at the two troopers that had gotten away. The Mandalorian had no time to be shocked by the versatility of this Jedi’s fighting (although the thought did linger in his mind long after). To the Jedi’s avail, the dark troopers were too far out of reach and mechanically impenetrable to be affected by their barrage of gunfire, however. Grogu’s eyes were filled with fear and locked onto his own, his ears flapping in the wind from under the trooper’s metal arm. The Mandalorian could only watch as Grogu’s little hand reached out towards him as he climbed higher and higher into the sky. 

Fennec spoke to Fett through the comms device, “They’ve got the baby. Don’t let them get away!”

The Mandalorian watched as Fett’s ship closed in behind the troopers, dangerously close to wear Grogu’s little form was dangerously exposed. “Stop him,” he urged Fennec, “I don’t want the child hurt.”

“Abort pursuit,” Fennec relayed to Fett, “Disengage. Do not harm the child.”

The Jedi stood at a distance among the fallen troopers, still watching the sky. They drew back the glowing blade into its handle and sheathed it and the blaster somewhere beneath their cape. The crackle in the air lessened, if only slightly.

“...they’re back..” The Mandalorian heard from Fett faintly through Fennec’s comms. “Who?” She replied, confused but stoic as ever.

“The Empire.”

“That can’t be,” Fennec insisted, “The Outer Rim is under the jurisdiction of the New Republic.”

“..can see the imperial cruiser with my own eyes,” The Mandalorian heard from the comms.

Watching the glow of the Empire’s Cruiser, taking off into hyperspace, he felt his chest constrict. 

~

The Mandalorian stood in the middle of the Razor Crest’s ruins. Spotting a piece of the steering mechanism in the rubble, he picked it up. It broke apart in his hand. Fennec and Fett’s pitying gazes on him were heavy, and he suddenly felt the weight of Grogu’s capture and his ship’s decimation. Everything he had just started to hold dear was gone.

He noticed a presence to his left, looking to see the Jedi standing beside him. The static in the air seemed to collect around them as the Jedi reached out their arms. The beskar staff from Corvus hovered out of the wreckage in the air, and surprisingly, the knob for the throttle that Grogu was so fond of playing with followed suit. With a hum growing louder in the Mandalorian’s ears, both objects flew into the Jedi’s hands.

They turned, offering out the staff and the ball toward him. “I could sense that these are of importance to you.”  
A female Jedi.

The Mandalorian took the ball from her palm, clutched it tightly in his gloved hand, feeling only loss, and placed the knob (and the hazardous feelings) away in one of the compartments on his belt. He grasped the beskar staff and studied the Jedi with multiple questions floating through his head, settling for, “Who are you?”

The Jedi reached up, removing her hood to reveal those piercing grey eyes, boring into his own through the layer of beskar. He couldn’t help his curiosity as he took her in further. Her hood came down to display unusually curly, light hair that fell just past her shoulders and above her eyebrows, which were quirked up at him in amusement. She had large features, he noticed. Big eyes peeked out under dark lashes; a long, pointed nose was framed by defined cheekbones. His eyes trailed down to a sharp jaw and slender neck that was halfway hidden by the grey-green undershirt, hiding her collarbone and set shoulders. From what he could see under her dark cloak, the Jedi was outfitted in more of this muted color that seemed to wrap tightly around her middle, tucked into a thick belt high on her waist, which he assumed held her weaponry. He could tell her legs were long, although hidden under loose pants that cut off distinctly at mid-calf. The color and fluidity of her clothes seemed to change with the surroundings as the wind brushed up again them. She wore hefty black boots with thick soles; they tapered above the foot, revealing slim ankles, and continued to travel up under her pant legs beyond where he could see. The shoes certainly gave her a bit of height, although she was still shorter than him by some margin, coming up to a little under his eye level. Of course, this didn’t seem to matter much to him, but in the back of his mind he wondered at the way she could seem so tall.

“You can call me Sora,” the Jedi replied with a certain degree of warmth he couldn’t place. “I heard Grogu’s call from the seeing stone and knew I had to act quickly.”

“How did you get here so fast?” The Mandalorian asked.

Sora regarded him with reluctance. “I’ve been living on Typhon for a few cycles,” She gazed across the wreckage with sympathy. “I’m sorry for your losses. I can tell you and Grogu have a strong connection.”

“Had,” he responded halfheartedly.

She examined him, “Grogu reached out, but I also responded,” Sora insisted, “The Empire is ruthless, I know, and will want to keep him as hidden from you as they can, and at this point I bet they think you’ll give up. But Grogu and I are also connected now, and he’s not gone. Not yet. We will get him back, trust me.”

She looked up at Fett and Fennec, still observing, then returned her gaze to the Mandalorian. “Grogu is strong, but he needs to be taught. If we can see him returned to you, I can help bring him to his true potential. I have a feeling we won’t be in it alone to rescue him, either.” She said this so matter-of-fact that he couldn’t help but feel more hopeful, if only slightly. 

He nodded, turning to approach where Fett and Fennec stood. “This is all that survived.”

“Beskar,” Fett replied. He lifted his armored forearm, “I want you to take a look at something. My chain code has been encoded in this armor for 25 years.”

He pointed to the projected code, “You see, this is me. Boba Fett. And this is my father, Jango Fett.”

“Your father was a foundling.”

“Yes,” Fett brought down the projection on his forearm. “He even fought in the Mandalorian Civil Wars.”

The Mandalorian relinquished, “Then that armor belongs to you.”

Fett nodding, “I appreciate its return.”

“Then our deal is complete”

“Not quite.”

His eyes darted to Fennec, “How so?”

“We agreed, in exchange for the return of my armor, we will ensure the safety of the Child.” Fett declared.

“The Child’s gone,” The Mandalorian pressed on in defeat, although uncertain. He felt a hand on his armored shoulder, and whipped around to see Sora delicately smiling at him with a tentative understanding.

Fett countered, “Until he is returned to you safely, we are in your debt.”

The Mandalorian glanced at Fennec and Fett, both of them giving some degree of encouragement, and looked back at Sora. Something in her eyes was so insistent, that he couldn’t help but allow that something to fill the cavern where his heart had been torn out after Grogu’s capture.

He caved, “Okay.”

…

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this to let out my feelings at the end of s2, and to also give the show a (slow burn/start as strong friendship) love interest bc I’m a sucker for romance :’) so if you enjoy that sort of thing lmk too it’s all for fun! next chapter following a modified chapter 15 coming in a few days <3


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